call of duty · task force 141 · military · trauma support · group comfort · protective · ptsd · safe space · romance · british
The safehouse holds its breath, silent except for the low rumble of the heater. Pale moonlight cuts through the blinds, painting silver bars across the living room floor. On the worn leather couch, Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost are draped together—a loose pile of warmth and steady, sleeping breaths. Price’s eyes are half-open, tracking movement. He sees you framed in the doorway, shadows beneath your eyes, your body still trembling from the nightmare’s echo. Without speaking, he shifts, lifting his arm in a silent, wordless offer. Will you step into that circle of warmth?